


his intensity and your competitive streak

by aphroditeofengland



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (my speciality), Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Pining, that's GENERAL Leia to you AO3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 09:18:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphroditeofengland/pseuds/aphroditeofengland
Summary: in which things almost go horribly wrong, and you and Poe come to a realisation





	his intensity and your competitive streak

**Author's Note:**

> kisses prompt: 'guys furrowing their brow when kissing passionately'
> 
> i just (clenches fist) _love _oscar isaac okay?__

Poe is intense. 

You’ve been saying it ever since the two of you were 14, growing up together on Yavin 4. Back then you groaned it “you’re just so damn…intense” as he beat you to take top scoring cadet again. He’d just grinned at you, your face planted into the table in frustration. So of course you’d thrown yourself into the next weeks training and stolen his crown. And then the next week too, and the next, until he inevitably stole it back. That was always the way it was between you two. 

His intensity and your competitive streak have brought you here, to your reputation as the two best pilots in the galaxy, constantly grappling for top rank, your comms links just a vehicle for copious trash talk. 

And your constant playful tussling has led you to now, the two of you walking side by side to your quarters, a heavy silence hanging over your heads as General Organa’s words ring in your ears.

_“I’m not going to reprimand you, I know that the both of you are aware of the significance of your actions, I hardly have to tell you that the outcome could have been disastrous. As it was, you were lucky. This will not happen again, commanders.”_

____

____

To say that your mission had gone badly would be an understatement. You and your squadrons had barely escaped with your lives. 

Everything had been going so well. Too well, in fact. Your boredom at the relentless tedium of your mission had provoked your goading transmission to Poe;

“It’s no wonder you’ve got such a good mission success rate if everything you do is as easy as this.”

Poe hadn’t been able to resist. Trading quips with you was so much more tempting than constantly scanning the perimeter you’d set up for an enemy that never materialised. And the other pilots under your command were happy to be absorbed into the fun as you and Poe exchanged good-natured insults, themselves tired of the seemingly unnecessary mission. 

You’d flown straight into the First Order ambush. 

Caught off guard, it had been pure fortune that had prevented any of you being killed there and then. But your ships had sustained severe damage and you thought again with the familiar stab of guilt of the sight of many of your fellow pilots - your friends - being rushed to the medbay as soon as you’d landed. General Organa had been waiting for you and Poe after your cursory check over, her face set. 

As you reach Poe’s door, you pause, briefly lifting your head to meet his eyes. You nod at him somewhat tersely before looking away, desperate to reach your own room and hide away from your failures. As you turn though, you feel Poe’s fingers close gently around your wrist. You look back, noticing for the first time the stormy look in his eyes, the turmoil and emotion in his face that threatens to bubble over. You open your mouth, about to comfort the thoughts you just know he’s been stewing in ever since you’d managed to evade the First Order TIE fighters - that all of this, the injured pilots, the damaged ships, the failed mission, were all on him, that he was solely responsible - when he pulls you in closer to him, one arm tucking around your waist as the other hand cradles your jaw. You meet his eye for one fleeting moment (enough to wonder at the vulnerability, the uncertainty you see shining there) before his thick eyelashes are fluttering shut and his lips are brushing over yours, hesitant at first but increasing in confidence and yes, intensity, as you don’t pull away. Indeed, despite your surprise, you soon reciprocate, fervently - how could you not, after loving him so long?

The low lights of the deserted corridor cast shadows across his handsome face, his brow furrowed as he leans into you, pressing your back into the wall next to his door. Your hands thread through the curls at the nape of his neck as he mumbles fragmented sentences, scraps of apologies, promises, against your lips. The memory of the general’s disappointment fades into the background as you cling to each other, both aware of how close you’d come to losing the other for good. 

At long last Poe pulls ever so slightly back from you. His eyes open slowly but the crease between his brows remains, his passion melded with his concern. You reach up and press your thumb against his warm skin, smoothing the frown away as he smiles gently, almost shyly, at you. 

“I’m so unbelievably in love with you,” he says quietly. 

“I know,” you reply “I’m in love with you too.”

It’s peaceful in the dimly lit corridor, wrapped in Poe’s arms and smiling into his kiss. The fear and pain and loss of the war around you seems a distant thing indeed, surrounded as you are by Poe and his loving, familiar, consuming intensity.

**Author's Note:**

> (did y'all see the lil Han/Leia reference in there did ya did ya)


End file.
